


Strife of Camlaan

by themocaw



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:41:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3473117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themocaw/pseuds/themocaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt: "Eggsy joins Kingsman, but his codename isn't 'Galahad'. . ."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strife of Camlaan

**Author's Note:**

> My take on this prompt: http://capriceandwhimsy.tumblr.com/post/112535598411/a-fic-prompt-for-kingsman

"Sit down, Mister Unwin."

The man who was now Arthur gestured to the seat across from him at the mahogany conference table. The boy who had been Eggsy Unwin took a seat.

"In light of the recent losses at our agency, we find ourselves badly in need of new agents," Arthur said. "Given your performance in the Valentine incident, and your elimination of my predecessor, I am willing to overlook your failure of your final test. For those reasons, I am now authorized to offer you a position with Kingsman."

It was not an unexpected offer, but there were formalities that needed to be followed. “I accept,” Eggsy said.

Arthur slid a slender manila envelope across the table. “You will find the details of your employment here,” he said. “Go over the information, make sure it’s correct, and then sign at the bottom.

Eggsy flipped open the folder and scanned the contents. Everything seemed in place. Real first name, real last name, date of birth, code name… 

Code name…

No. Something was wrong. It should be “Galahad.” Harry would have wanted him to be Galahad. But that name… 

"Sir?" Eggsy asked softly. "What’s ‘Mordred?’"

He looked over the top of the folder. Arthur’s expression was sad. Full of regret.

"Mordred was King Arthur's illegitimate son," Arthur said. "He was a trusted member of the Knights of the Round Table. Then he betrayed and killed King Arthur."

Eggsy's mouth went dry.

Arthur leaned back from the conference table, his expression carefully neutral. "I trust I do not need to spell out why this name was assigned to you."

"He was going to kill me," Eggsy growled. "He was on Valentine's side. He betrayed Kingsma--"

"ARTHUR **WAS** KINGSMAN!" the new Arthur roared. "Or do you still not understand why that last test exists? Since you still haven't managed to get that information into your thick skull, let me spell it out for you as I would a child: a Kingsman follows orders! If ordered to jump, you jump! If ordered to shoot your dog, you shoot your dog! And if your orders are to let billions of people die for the greater good, you had damned well better let those people die for the greater good~!"

The older man lurched to his feet, leaning unsteadily on the mahogany conference table with shaking, trembling arms. "We exist to maintain order in the world. To prevent chaos and anarchy from taking over the precarious balance of power in his world. And because of your direct actions, the entire leadership of every fucking country in the entire fucking world has been fucking decapitated! Did you see the news this morning? The United States has no President, Congress or Supreme Court. Russia is getting ready to tear itself apart in civil war. **There is no more BRITISH ROYAL FAMILY**! All because of the actions of a stupid, idealistic boy who wasn't even a member of Kingsman in the first place! A boy who was such a fucking fool that he got himself trapped by superior numbers in an untenable situation, and then chose to MURDER EVERY SINGLE WORLD LEADER TO SAVE HIS OWN IDIOTIC LIFE!"

Arthur's fist slammed hard, causing the pens and glasses of scotch on the table to jump. "Kingsman spent the last hundred years keeping the world in order. And in a single night, you destroyed absolutely everything that we spent our entire existence working towards. If I didn't need your admittedly considerable talents to keep this present anarchy from spiraling further, I would order Agent Lancelot to put a bullet in the back of your fucking idiot head. As it is, I will make damned sure that everyone in this organization knows what you did. If you're willing to work under those circumstances, then sign that paper. If not, walk out of this room right now. Go home and live out the rest of your life in whatever peace your conscience will allow.

"I would hope, for your own sake, that your guilt will be severe."

Eggsy's fists clenched tightly. His vision was blurring as his heart pounded behind his ribs. The fucking gall of this bastard. How dare he. How dare he try to shame him for saving billions. . . 

. . . shame?

No. No shame. He weighed the lives of the fate, rich, heartless bastards who had been willing to sacrifice the many for the few, against the lives of the many who now still lived. If Arthur wanted to guilt him for that, then Arthur could suck his fat, hairy cock.

He picked up the gold-inlaid fountain pen and signed his name in angry, hard strokes that tore through the paper and dug into the manila folder behind it. He threw pen and folder into Arthur's face, gave that fucking one-eyed, upper-class twit a two-fingered salute, and turned to walk out of the fucking conference room before he strangled that dickless cunt with his own silk tie.

"Eggsy," Arthur said softly.

There was something in his voice that was sympathetic. Almost kind. Agent Mordred paused.

"Have you ever read the King Arthur tales?"

"I saw the fucking Disney movie. With the owl and the little fish," Mordred sneered.

"There's a complete copy in the British HQ library," Arthur said. "All eleven volumes. Your namesake appears in the final one. If you're curious."

He waved his hand feebly in dismissal.

* * *

The next day, as Agent Mordred flew to Montana to deal with a group of militiamen who were threatening to secede violently from the still-reeling United States of America, he opened up the well-worn paperback edition of Sir Thomas Malory's _Le Morte d'Arthur_ and began reading. He was surprised to see a single sentence underlined towards the end of the first chapter.

"For then was the common voice among them that with Arthur was none other life but war and strife, and with Sir Mordred was great joy and bliss."

 


End file.
